You hoist yourself up the stairs and enter the first train car. The sweet, rosy scent seems to dissipate, leaving you with a sinking sense of dread. Above you an old lamp hangs listlessly, though sometimes it sways as though moved by an unfelt breeze. You hear a soft, rhythmic dripping sound and realize that it seems to be leaking oil.
You continue on towards the next cart. You think you hear a small, ghostly sigh from behind the door, but you can't be sure.